Don't Fear the Reaper
by LoveInChains
Summary: I'm an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., I've been assigned to oversee the C.I.A. as they work with the mutants. My name is Rosette Noelle Howlett, and I never trained for this. Alex/OC
1. Chapter One: Body Collector

**Don't Fear the Reaper  
**

**Chapter One: Body Collector**

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There isn't one universal sign of death. It isn't always a bloody scene or a collapsed building that gives way to impending doom. I have seen all kinds of death throughout my career. I've seen the expression on a grown mans face as I strangled him, the slight bulge in the neck that occurs after a clean break, young children killed by an overwhelming amount of wasp venom, and the sea foam that gathers at the mouth of someone who fought against the water around him until the burn of oxygen deprivation became too much to handle. Death wears many masks. And I had seen them all... Until today.

Today, death wears the mask of mutation.

He disappears and reappears in a cloud of red sulphur that singes the nose. He wields two blades and kills the men around me with such grace and ease it's as if he's dancing. More and more men pour into the heat of the battle only to be slaughtered as soon as they set foot on the grass. I've seen many battles, none such as this. And as a bullet burrows its way into my brain I think about how it came to this. How I went from an assassin for S.H.I.E.L.D. to just another lamb waiting to be silenced. And it all started with Agent Black.

"Now, they're mutants, all right? So no laughing about what they can do or anything of the sort. If they feel welcome then they might be valuable assets in the future." He informed me as we walked through the halls of his base.

Next to him, I nodded, "I'm here to assess them as well. If they can do the things you say that they can S.H.I.E.L.D. will want them as allies too." I said in my monotone voice I carried while on the job.

Black nodded, "Yes, but, above all, we must remember that they're human beings."

I turned to him and arched an eyebrow at him, "Trust me, Agent. I've dealt with my fair share of odd soldiers in my days. Remember Protocide? We contained him after he went berserk."

"I thought Protocide was just a myth to scare people from trying to recreate the Captain America serum?" Black asked as we turned a corner.

At that I shook my head, "He isn't a myth. But the stories of him were spread to possibly prevent other agencies from making the same mistake. The only success we had was with the African American Super Soldier project. That was carefully calculated every single step of the way and we still had some test subjects lose their mind." I explained with such emotional indifference it was almost scary. That's just how you needed to be in my line of work. Cold, calculating, uncaring. If you were anything but, you'd have one hell of a time getting to sleep at night.

"That's some scary stuff." Black said with a shiver. That's how a human being should react when hearing such things.

I just shrugged, "It's not for everyone, that's for sure."

And with that we came to the conference room where we were to meet up with the mutants before heading down to Hank's lab. Agent Black opened the door and I got a look at the magnificent mutants for the first time. My first impressions on them? They're the ones I'd throw into the heat of battle first, distract the enemy while I slit their throats. That went for two of them, at least, the third seemed capable of holding his own in a fight, if not for a few seconds. One of them came forward, brown hair, blue eyes, short for a man, and a certain dignified air about him, with a hand extended. I clasped and shook it.

"Charles Xavier, mutant." He informed me.

"Agent Rose." I responded, not giving him my full name as he did. One thing an Agent knows it's to never reveal your identity to someone whose alliance is unknown to you. One also knows never to touch something for an extended period of time unless you manufactured it yourself. With that thought I gently pulled my hand from his grasp.

Charles smiled, "You are the agent from the Strategic Homeland Intervention and Enforcement Logistics Division, yes?"

I had to admit, I was impressed that he remembered all of that. There's a reason why we usually just say S.H.I.E.L.D., "Yes." I responded curtly. I never was one for idle chit-chat.

"Very good, very good!" He exclaimed before gesturing to his two comrades, "This is my sister Raven," He said, gesturing to the blonde girl with a child's face and moss green eyes, "and this is Erik." Charles finished with the man who I thought could last in a fight. He also had brown hair and blue eyes but he stood several inches taller with a constant expression of anger.

I nodded to the two, "Pleasure." The group then made their way towards the door when I held my hand up to halt them, "I need to witness your mutations before we can continue." I said bluntly to them. Each of them looked at the others in a slight confusion.

Beside me, Black interceded, "Umm... Agent Rose, did you not read to report?" He asked.

That didn't even warrant acknowledgement, "In fact I did, Agent Black, but I've learned over the years that you can't always accept things at face value. I don't know what the C.I.A. has been teaching you, at S.H.I.E.L.D. we gather our own information." I said, not bothering to look at him. I could feel his slight embarrassment; I was not assigned to this job to care about people's feelings.

"We are all perfectly willing to give you a demonstration, Agent Rose." Charles said in a chipper voice. And sure enough, the other two nodded in confirmation.

I nodded as well, "Good. You may begin whenever you feel ready."

Once the last word left my mouth I watched a perfectly normal looking blonde girl change into an exact replica of Agent Black. The resemblance was uncanny. When she changed for a second time I noticed the blue feathers that briefly coated her skin before it altered into whoever she wished. That time she turned into myself. The grey eyes, the shoulder length brown hair, even the lapel-suit ensemble I was wearing. It made me wonder if she was copying the stuff beyond the surface as well. I gave her a nod of approval and waited for the next mutant to present their gift.

That's when I noticed the voice in my head, '_Care to gander what I can do_?' The voice taunted. I covered up the surprise I felt as I carefully analysed the two gentlemen. It was the shorter of the two that caught my eye. His fingers were placed against his temple and he was smiling at me. A telepath. At that thought the voice chuckled, '_Wonderful guess_.'

My eyes finally drifted over to Erik who was flipping a coin over and over. I watched the coin each time it flipped only to realise that he wasn't flipping it at all. It was rising, falling, and turning in the air of its own accord with Erik's hands both crossed over his chest. I couldn't help it, I smirked a little, "Does that apply to something more substantial than a parlour trick?"

Erik smirked as well. He then reached forward and every chair in the room levitated off the ground.

"Telekinesis?" I asked, to make sure. He shook his head, "Magnetic manipulation?" He nodded. I just took a guess there. I catalogued that in the back of my mind, "Thank you all very much. I would like to remind you that I am not only here to watch your progress I am here to protect you to the best of my ability."

And that's how I got to where I am now, dead, on the grass amongst others that have been killed. Only... I'm not dead. Even now I feel my body pushing the bullet out of my skull. After a few seconds the wound has healed itself and I bring myself back up to standing, I feel the eyes of the younger mutants on me in utter shock. With my instincts beginning to kick in I take the butt of my gun and I hit my right shoulder with it as hard as I can, causing the bone to jut out of my skin, this process is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. Gritting back the pain I grab the part of bone that is showing and pull it the rest of the way out. When the bone's removed I immediately feel it being replaced and the skin healing around it. I also feel my sleeve hinging on a thread so I rip that off. I then take the bone in between my thumb and forefinger and I use my enhanced strength to sharpen it into a weapon. So, now, in my hand, I have a sword made out of my own skeletal structure, enhanced by my own genetics to be near impossible to break. Guaranteed to bring death onto whoever it encounters.

There's a reason why they call me the Grim Reaper.


	2. Chapter Two: Human Shield

**Author's Note: Thank you guys for the reviews and the notice! I didn't expect much response because I've been known for my Perfect Synergy story and writing great humour and deep characters. Well, Rose is very deep. And if you haven't read _Perfect_ _Synergy _and you like the way I write, check it out, tell me what you think, and head over to _Eternal Synergy_** **the sequel! Other than that, love you all, xoxo - Momma Love**

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**Don't Fear the Reaper  
**

**Chapter Two: Human Shield**

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With my sword in hand I charge at the creature painted red in front of me. The second he takes notice he's gone in a cloud of red sulfur. So here I stand, sniffing at the air, waiting for the perpetrator to rejoin me in existence. My instincts and senses are more advanced than a regular humans, almost akin to an animal, which is were I got 'Lioness' from years prior. A snarl passes my lips that I didn't bother to contain. If I want to catch this bastard, I'm going to need the animal. In a situation like this, it can be very useful. At least that makes the most sense to me.

Good thing I trust my own instincts because the smell gives way to his appearance. I turn around to block an incoming blow of his blades. Shock crosses his face briefly before his tail snakes around and wraps around my ankle. As he yanks my footing out from under me I throw my weight back and I flip over backwards, still completely in control of the situation. I run at him again only to meet the same scenario as before, his disappearance. He reappears much faster this time and I manage to side sweep his feet, knocking him to the ground. Except before he hits he's disappeared again.

This is when I feel something wrap around my neck and it throws me into the room where all of the mutants I swore to protect are cowering in fear of the unknown. They're all too young to know how to react to a unique situation as I do. I regain my footing quickly and stand defensively in front of them, "Don't move and stay down." I warn them, taking a second to gauge the shock, fear, and anger on each of their faces.

Eventually they each give me some sound or motion of understanding so I immediately return my attention back to the teleporter. He's stepping through the broken window to the small rec room he had thrown me into, blades still ready to strike at his sides. Behind me I hear someone else, I whip my head around to see a man fixing the cuffs of his jacket while his feet crunched the broken glass he stepped on. I don't know when that window broke or when the other man arrived but I don't have time to ask those questions. The gunfire coming from the hallway required my near full attention.

"Wait, wait, you want the mutants?" A frantic voice asks, "They're right through that door," The weakling continues, "just leave us normal people alone, we're no threat-"

The voice is silenced by a single yet grotesque crack before the doors open and we're greeted by a man in a blue suit wearing, may I say, a ridiculous helmet, carrying a misplaced air of superiority.

"Where's the telepath?" He asks.

"I don't see how that's any of your damn business." I retort back with added malice. Something in my bones is telling me that this man possesses enormous power and has a thing for flaunting it.

He looks at me with a smile, an overly sweet smile, "You'd think that the C.I.A. could afford to teach you some manners."

At that, I snort, "Who said I'm with the C.I.A.? I'm just as much of a mutant as these kids are." I say, waving my sword back and forth. He arches an eyebrow at me but he's still smiling. I then move so I'm immediately in between the man and the kids.

He reaches up to take off the helmet, "I'm assuming that the telepath isn't here," He says, handing the headgear to the man I haven't had the pleasure of fighting, yet, "Good evening, my name is Sebastian Shaw." He continues, "And I am not here to hurt you." Even as the words escape his mouth my hands are clenching around my weapon. From what I've heard about Sebastian Shaw, he likes to get under your skin and watch you squirm as he kills you. Not someone whose words I'll take at point face. I even watch him closely as he takes steps towards us.

"FREEZE!" A lone agent yells with his gun trained on the mutants threatening us. I wince, knowing he'll be dead soon.

Shaw turns to his associate with the blades, "Azazel?"

The man I now know to be Azazel disappears only to reappear behind the agent and he rips his blade across his throat. The agent drops dead and Azazel returns to the rec room. Behind me I hear Raven choke out a sob. I turn just enough to see if she's going to panic, she just seems so utterly sad about what's happening, so incapable of aiding in any way. This girl wouldn't last two minutes in the field, she's someone to protect, not someone to rely on to have your back when you're taking heat.

"Friends," Shaw begins, "there's a revolution coming when mankind discovers who we are and what we can do! Each of us will have a choice, to be enslaved," He pauses to carefully look at each of us, "or to rise up to rule. Choose freely but know if you are not with us then by definition you are against us." Technically I was against him the second he started his slaughter of the C.I.A. agents, "So. You can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you, or you can join me and live like kings." I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste the tang of blood running down my throat. And even then I don't stop since I'm watching him carefully determine who amongst us has the weakest resolve. Who is most likely to turn to his side. I can tell by the look on his face that he's picked out Angel from the pack. I see his aged lips contort into a smile, his eyes of ocean blue threatening to drown you, as he says, "And queens."

I can taste the betrayal in the air as she mentally accepts his offer. Shaw holds out a hand to her and she gladly, if not hesitantly, takes it. I have to choke back a snarl. Nothing about this situation sits well with me. With a look of victory on his face Shaw leads her over towards Azazel and out the window, followed by the one who is carrying his helmet. I feel the mutants behind me craning their necks to watch their friend walk away from them, right into the mouth of the lions den. I move so I'm in front of Darwin, still in between the immediate threat and the children.

"Angel..." Raven says, confused if not hurt by the betrayal.

"You kidding me?" The red head, I believe to be Sean, drawls, looking slightly wounded.

Perhaps it's guilt, but some force causes her to turn back towards us, "Come on," She says, "we don't belong here. And that's nothing to be ashamed of." Darwin extends a hand towards her, his face torn in the pain of it all. I have known the feeling. Like there's an unnatural emptiness inside of you. And you'll do anything to fill it... Anything. But Angel forces herself to turn back around and the four head out towards the courtyard.

Then a dangerous look crosses Darwin's face, one that usually kills more than it saves. The look of a hero. I see him turn around to face the blonde, Alex I think his name is, with pure unadulterated sacrifice on his face. A complete willingness to give up ones own safety to save another. I've seen many men come to this. That's usually the last look I saw on their faces before they were assaulted with bullets and I was writing widows letters of condolence. Darwin speaks to Alex in muffled tones, hard for even my enhanced hearing to catch. I just know that he was planning something dangerous.

"Stop!" He calls to the others after looking Alex straight in the eye, "I'm coming with you." Shaw looks at him with a twisted smile on his face as Darwin approaches him with resolute purpose.

Then there's something odd in the air I can just barely taste. It tastes like fire. I know what each of the mutants can do and Alex has the only one pertaining to fire. I grab his arm to find it slightly warm, "You're not doing this. Your powers are too unstable!" I hiss at him. And I know I'm right, S.H.I.E.L.D. has an eye out for all possible threats, Alex Summers is high up on that list in the mutant division.

He yanks his arm out of my grip, "So? We've got to do SOMETHING." He counters with anger flaring in his eyes. We look back to see Darwin joining hands with Angel and turning around to face us.

I can count the seconds before he yells, "Alex!"

"Get down!" Alex yells and I move to throw Raven and Hank out of the room. This is when I witness Alex's powers for the first time. Distinct rings of energy that originate from his core are released into the distance, one grazing the building across the lot, one is deflected by one of Shaw's associates with some sort of wind or force field, and the last hits Shaw dead on. Or it should have. Shaw has both hands around the energy and is absorbing it into his skin. I'm completely unprepared for this, Shaw isn't supposed to be a mutant, S.H.I.E.L.D. has no record of it. That's why I know what's coming next isn't going to be pretty.

Once the energy's successfully absorbed into his body, Shaw says, "Protecting your fellow mutants?" He shakes out his arms a bit, "Feels good."

Next to him I can see that Darwin has no idea how to react so he reacts the only way he knows how. He goes to slug Shaw with his right arm and is blocked. Shaw then grabs his jaws with one hand and in his other I see a condensed ball of energy coming dangerously close to Darwin's mouth.

"Adapt to this." He says threatening, placing the ball past his lips.

No one knows what to do, Shaw is gone in the next minute and we watch Darwin's body morph in a futile attempt to stomach the energy. He changes from one material to another until he settled for a concrete-like substance. The danger seems to have subsided for a brief moment. When Darwin reaches out towards us I run out in front of Alex and I wrap myself around him, using myself as a shield. I feel the explosion before I hear it. My back is sprayed with rubble, causing me to wince in pain. I look behind me to see nothing left of Darwin. No evidence that he ever existed. I now look to Alex, complete shock plastered on his face.

"Shit..." I mutter to myself. First, I go to the other three, "There's a hatch in the atrium that leads down to a bomb shelter. You're to stay there until I retrieve you, understand?" Sean and Hank nod before leaving. It's Raven that can't seem to hear me. I kneel down next to her, "Raven, you have to get up. Shaw could come back any minute and I can't have any more of you getting hurt, understand?" If she does understand me she doesn't make a point of letting me know. I have no time to handle this delicately so I grab her jaw and force her to look me in the eye, "You're going to get up and you're going to follow Sean and Hank. You're stronger than this. Now's the time to show it." I say to her and she nods. I help her to shaky legs and she heads off after the boys.

Now all I have left is Alex.

I return to him muttering to himself, "Alex. Darwin's dead and there's nothing you can do now, you've got to get to safety." I say and there's even less acknowledgement on his face as there was on Raven. Again, I don't have time for this. I slap him across the face, "You're going to lose people, Alex, sometimes it's going to be your fault. That's just something you're going to have to deal with in your life! You've got to learn how to channel rage and self hatred into the strength to right your wrongs." I say, trying to get through to him, "So you're going to go downstairs so you can live to fight another day and take down Shaw with your own hands. You're going to come to the realisation that Darwin is dead and letting yourself get killed isn't going to make anything better."

He's looking at me now, "I killed him..."

"You think I haven't accidentally killed comrades in combat? And you haven't killed anyone today, Shaw used your powers to do harm onto another." I say quietly, softly, "Now suck it up and get your ass down there!" I yell. He looks at me with a hint of malice but he complies. I'm not here to be the mother of these kids, even though I'm old enough to have mothered half of them. I don't really know how to delicately diffuse a situation. Never have had to do it. I've always been the soldier, never the officer. This is a new experience for me and I really don't like it. I don't have time to think about this though as I know I have something I need to do.

I rush to the nearest phone and I dial the number of my "commanding officer". The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. The phone rings once before a familiar gruff voice says, "S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Director Fury, Agent Rose, we have a huge problem." I start, "Shaw isn't just leading the Hellfire Club, he's a mutant as well."

"What?" He says angrily.

I swallow a lump in my throat, "He's at least a level 4, energy absorbstion and amplification. He used Alex Summers' energy to kill Armando and Angel Salvadore swapped sides. There's a teleporter and another who has some sort of shield or wind mutation." I continue to explain.

After a few seconds I hear the Director exhale, "The acid spitting girl who can fly and the man who can adapt, correct? And the Summers boy's powers did it?" He asks me.

"Well yes, but-" I try to intercede.

"Did his powers kill Armando?" He asks bluntly.

I sigh, "Yes."

"Then you are hearby assigned 24/7 watch, you are no longer there to make sure the C.I.A. doesn't find something they shouldn't, you're there to protect others from Alex Summers." He orders before hanging up.

Again, I sigh. I don't necessarily agree with director Fury's verdict on the situation, I saw what happened, Shaw killed Darwin. But now that I have my orders, I have no choice. I have to treat Alex Summers as a constant threat to others around him, as a threat to me. And I have to remember that he always has been. Alex Summers, my latest target.

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**Author's Note: Thank you all for reading! xoxo, Momma Love**


	3. Chapter Three: Sole Survivor

**The Grim Reaper**

**Chapter Three: Sole Survivor**

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It's been hours since the C.I.A. massacre and I'm now in my room. I've shed my black pant suit, bloodied and torn, for a pair of shorts and a long sleeved black shirt. When I look in the mirror, I see an average 20 year old. Someone who could be in college, someone who could have a normal life if she tried, if she wanted. Maybe she has a boyfriend, maybe she has parents and friends who love her. She even speaks,

'_You're not me_.' She says.

I crack a weak smile at my misleading reflection before returning to my bed. The fight, if you could call it that, drained me physically and mentally. No amount of mutant regeneration's going to change that. Yet I'm incapable of succumbing to the sweet bliss of sleep. I'm staring at the popcorn ceiling above me, completely restless. After a few minutes of frustration I decide to walk out onto the small balcony to get some fresh air. I unlock the door and as the cold September night air greets me I inhale deeply. Sometimes I miss the cold air of Russia. Rarely, but it happens. I lean over the railing using my elbows to balance me as I watch the agents below.

There are no more corpses to collect; they were gathered immediately after I assessed the situation to be "contained". No matter how safe it is now I can't forget the shower of blood. I touch my forehead where the bullet penetrated my brain and sigh heavily. A few windows down I see someone else emerging into the morbid sereneness that is tonight. It's Alexander Summers, code name Havok, mutant #32, still fuming/in shock. His hands are clutching his head and he's pacing the length of his balcony mumbling obscenities to himself.

It's very difficult for me to remain impartial at this moment. I know each and every one of those emotions tumbling around inside of him intimately. I just choose not to show them. I've lost several men, some take their life willingly, others only know the cold sting of someone else's blade or the bullets that penetrate them before their demise. This is why agents are usually both spouse and childless. To spare them the pain of their unexpected deaths. Perhaps Alex has known this pain before, perhaps it's his first true experience in death. Whatever the case, no one deserves to go through it alone. I dissociate by choice, having had no one in the past, but he's practically a kid. He doesn't need to have my same experiences in life at such a young age.

"You should really be inside." I call to him, hoping he'd retreat after realising that he wasn't alone. He just glares at me before continuing to pace. Inwardly, I'm chuckling. Outwardly, I'm emotionless. You learn fast in Siberia, to show emotion is to be weak, to be weak is to be struck. And I was struck often. It took me a great deal longer to learn those lessons than it should have. Ignorance, naivety, call it whatever you wish, I believed for a long time that people could never be so cruel. Those thoughts were quickly snuffed out by the butt of a sergeants rifle.

I was trained in a mutant division in Russia, I've had enhanced reflexes all my life, the healing came much later... After I learned to remain unsympathetic and uncaring to every situation that came my way.

I was inducted very young, five or six years old to be specific, for I was a homeless orphan in the coldest and cruelest place on the planet. You did anything to stay warm, anything included subjecting yourself to being poked, prodded and branded a mutant for the rest of your life. And you definitely did this if you were "different" since no one would even speak to you in fear of being killed for harbouring a potentially dangerous individual.

Siberia, my birthplace, my prison... Whatever you want to call it, it's hell on earth. I shake the thoughts from my head. That is the past and this is now. I'm an American S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Rosette Howlett, code name: Grim Reaper, mutant #7, jokingly mutant #666 or #13, and after 30 some odd years I've finally taken control of my life. Yet there are still things I wish I didn't have to do. Like I wish that I could console Alex, granted I have no idea how to do so, never done it in my whole life, I just hate seeing him so torn up.

Perhaps telling a story would help, "I knew an agent once." I say, my gaze looking far beyond the horizon, "He was a lot like Darwin. Kind, gentle, and willing to protect those he cared about to an extent where he was constantly injured because of it." He glares at me some more.

"I don't want to hear some bullshit story about some god damn agent." He snarls, his blue eyes attempting to murder me from across the balconies.

I roll my eyes, "Just listen. He was a good agent, a little headstrong and a little reckless, good none the less. There came a mission where we could either starve or one of us could sacrifice ourselves for the cause.

"I had no idea at the time that one of us would have to die, but that agent did. He strapped himself up with C-4 and was blown sky high. Because of him we were aware of the nuclear progress of Germany. Because of him we were to stop a war." I pause to look Alex in the eye, "Darwin knew what he was doing, knew that he could die. And, in this situation, your mutation was the bullet and Shaw was gun. He's the one who pulled the trigger. Don't forget that." I say before returning to my room.

I press my back against the glass that now separates me from the outside. I have no idea if my story got through to him, I just pray to an imaginary god that it did. I can start hating him tomorrow. Sighing inwardly, I lock the door to my balcony before turning off the lights and crawling into my bed. It's futile. I'm still absolutely fretful. My mind's playing through the scenarios and determining the points of weakness, where my plan failed. Where I could have done something more...

Clearly unable to sleep I grab a syringe containing a mild tranquilliser from my nightstand. Something I've become hopelessly dependant on. I stab the crease of my elbow with it and push the plunger until there's no more substance left inside. It's not long before it overtakes me and I'm plunged into a drug induced darkness, the closest thing to 'sleep' that I seem to know.

I wake up the following morning at the crack of dawn in a haze. Side-effects of the drug I use to fall asleep in the first place. I sit up straight and I force it out of my system, putting my regeneration at its maximum capacity for a split second. It's a really odd feeling, like something crawling around in your blood. When it's all out of my system I get dressed. I choose my typical pant suit, not wanting what happened last night to have any effect on my routine. I make sure that everything is in place and I exit my room.

Careful not to wake anyone, I walk down the hall in my usual fashion, quietly as I can. As I'm walking I can smell the distinct scent of unease, anxiety, fear.

No one feels safe anymore.

They had been told about mutants but they are only now realising that we can be a serious threat and are acting as such. I shake my head, hating the fact that it takes death and tragedy for people to treat beings like us seriously. Eventually I make my way to the atrium, here I wait for everyone else to emerge.

And lucky for me they don't take long. I assume that they didn't get much sleep by the tired expressions on their faces, soon replaced by astonishment. They're a bit surprised by my presence. Probably they assumed that I would have cleared out of there by now.

I give an acknowledging nod to have Hank step forward. "You're a mutant." He says, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Prior to last night my orders were to oversee the C.I.A. overseeing you. Those orders changed the second we lost Darwin. Now..." I pause, "I'll fill in the rest when Charles and Erik return. I don't like repeating myself."

They don't look too happy with my response but I don't care. I motion for them to leave the base and they hesitantly obey. We settle down just at the edge of the rubble on some of the stone benches that remain. I stay standing, overseeing everything. Once or twice I feel Alex's eyes examining me, I pretend not to notice, trying to figure out if I'm the cold agent I have always been or the mutant that gave him advice the previous night. Honestly, I couldn't care less. Or at least I couldn't afford to. I cross my arms and wait.

It's a couple of hours later and I've decided to get some rest, or I attempt to. Another beautiful thing about Russia is that they trained you to sleep whenever and wherever physically possible. They also train you to be able to wake up at a moments notice, unbenounced to the enemy that you were asleep to begin with. Let's just say that I'm not a perfect agent and this is where I am completely lacking. It has been years since I've been able to succumb to the bliss of my ever lasting torpor.

Carefully I open my eyes to find Alex looking at me once again, "Were you asleep?" He asks quietly.

I give him a sarcastic look, "Do I look like someone who was just sleeping?" I ask in return.

"Well... No, but-" He starts but I interrupt.

"Exactly." I say curtly just before a car pulls into the 'driveway' of sorts. I look back to Alex who looks slightly angered, if not extremely upset, by my abruptness. He's glaring at me and I feel as though my job in that department is complete. It's hard to go through a mission feeling sympathetic or connected to the person you're trying to kill. Okay, I'm not trying to kill him, I'm to neutralise him if he proves to be a threat. Which could include killing him. Ugh. I digress.

From the car Charles, Erik and Moira emerge. At first eye contact Charles is rushing to Raven, his foster sister, "Raven!" He calls. Once they were within arms length of each other they embraced affectionately, "Are you alright?" He asks her, his hand cupping her chin and tilting it so he can see every bit of her youthful face. Upon his release of her, she nods. He then looks to the rest of us until he gaze connects with mine, "I think your services are no longer required here, Agent Rose."

Oh he doesn't know the half of it, "I've been reassigned."

"Then this is goodbye I suppose-"

"I've been assigned to assess if any of you are a direct threat to national security." I pause to gauge everyone's reaction, my eyes settling on a slightly unnerved Alex only for a moment, "S.H.I.E.L.D. believes that someone close to the sensitive status of your genetic make-up," Which is just a fancy way of saying 'your mutation', "would be best suited to oversee you all in the long run." I explain.

If nothing else, Charles looks confused. He places a finger at his temple with a perplexed look on his face. After a few seconds his hand falls, "I can't penetrate your mind." He states.

I nod, "Yes. There's a special device planted somewhere on my person that disrupts a telepaths powers. You may communicate with me and read the forefront of my inner most thoughts but you are unable to pilfer through my mind whenever you so choose. S.H.I.E.L.D. invented it when Emma Frost first joined the Hellfire Club."

Now Charles looks even more confused and even a little frustrated that he cannot know my past or my mutation, "How long has S.H.I.E.L.D. known that mutants exist?" He asks.

"Since prior to World War II when my mutant division in Siberia infiltrated one of their bases." I explain, preparing myself for the bombardment of questions that will proceed.

And I'm right to expect them, jaws dropped all around, but Charles composes himself quickly, "Then... you are a mutant?"

Again, I nod, "Yes. Mutant number 7, The Grim Reaper. 42 years old. Decreased aging, increased strength and regeneration." Is all I say in response. The less they know about me the better.

"I knew there was something off about you." Erik inquires, "Besides you being Russian." He says, venom dripping from his every word.

I can't help it, I let out a small chuckle, "I don't have a drop of Russian blood in me. My whore of a mother was supposedly a nurse during WWI for France and my father was an American soldier. So don't fret about my Soviet blood tainting any of you." I clear my throat, "I know this news is only the slightest bit interesting but I do believe we should leave. The C.I.A. is no longer involved and staying here is unwise. Shaw will return if he so wishes."

Charles nods, "Correct, we've made arrangements for you to be taken home immediately. From now on it'll just be Erik, Raven, and myself."

"We're not _going_ home." Sean objects, which actually surprises me slightly, out of all of them I had pegged him for wanting to get the hell out of there. Well I can't always be right no matter how hard I try to be.

"What?" The telepath asks, like he didn't hear him the first time.

Sean looks from Alex back to Charles, "He's not going back to prison." He proclaims. That actually touched my heart, the fact that they're already become so close in their short time together.

Alex seems to concur on some level, "He killed Darwin!"

I smirk slightly at his statement. He didn't say anything that inquired his involvement in the death of his friend. We share a brief yet knowing glance. He catches my upturned lip and I quickly dispel it. He frowns but looks back to Charles, determination clear in his eyes. Hopefully that means he's cleared his mind of guilt. Perhaps my story helped him in some small way. Whatever the case, I'm glad he's not going to be accusing himself anytime soon.

"All the more reason to leave." Charles reiterates, "This is over."

My silver eyes roll of their own accord, "You think just because a soldier dies the war is over? This isn't over. Not by a long shot." I mutter, catching Hank's attention. This falters me slightly. Usually when I'm muttering I'm speaking so quietly that only I can understand. I know of Hank's mutation, ape-like feet and animal-like dexterity. Seems as though the beastly traits did not stop there.

"Darwin's dead, Charles." A since quiet Raven suddenly speaks, "And we can't even bury him."

All around, eyes cast downwards. It's still a sour subject for the young mutants. And bringing to the field the fact that there isn't a large enough piece left of him to collect and return to his loved ones is probably a realisation none of them need.

"We can avenge him."

I look to Erik then back at the kids. They seem to really like the idea. The only one amongst us, besides myself, that doesn't find the notion to be in their best interests is Charles, "Erik, a word, please?" He asks of his friend. The two walk off back towards the road. Not wanting to miss anything, I train my ears to listen in, "They're just kids." Charles continues.

Erik doesn't look like he agrees with that statement, "No. They WERE kids." He corrects, "Shaw has his army, we needs ours."

With my gaze focused on the ground, I grimace. While Erik is correct in the instance where the younger mutants are no long children, it doesn't mean that they're ready to face the horrors of war. And though I'll do many horrible things for the sake of carrying out a mission, tainting their lives does not even compute. I will not, under pain of death, force another to experience what I did at their age.

Out of my peripherals I see Alex shift his weight forward. He's saying something to me but I can't hear him. Even though I possess enhanced hearing capabilities it is limited if I focus it on one thing in particular, forcing everything else to fall deaf on my ears. I pull back from the exchange and I ask Alex to repeat himself.

"You can hear them, can't you." He says for the second time. His gaze is full of intent, of purpose. I had noticed that in the boy. He always has an intensity about him.

After a quick glance to make sure that Erik and Charles hadn't heard what Alex said, I nod in the affirmation. Once that was confirmed he asked for the content of their conversation. I motion to him and the others, officially I've said nothing on the subject. And as Charles turns back to address the rest of us, his eyes glancing over each and every one of us, Moira included, I pull at my cuffs so as not to appear suspicious.

"We'll have to train." He says. "All of us." No one says anything, forcing Charles to leave a questionable "yes" in the air.

"Yeah." Alex confirms, his tone reveals a slight excitement. His head nods in affirmation.

Next to me, Hank speaks rationally. "We can't stay here." He says. "Even if they reopen the department it's not safe. We've got... _no_where to go."

I return my attention to Charles. He's almost smiling. Carefully, he says, "Yes, we do."

My mind automatically refers to the large mansion the Xavier family had passed onto the young man. It's hidden deep in Westchester County, New York, miles away from any main road, or country road, to be accurate. The perfect place to train a group of youths while simultaneously living a semi-normal life.

While I'm lost in my own thoughts I barely notice Moira calling for someone to bring a couple cars around. I place my hand on her shoulder. "That isn't necessary, Agent MacTaggert. I'll have the agency send escorts."

"Agent Rose..." Charles starts from behind me. "We'd really appreciate if the government did not know where we are headed."

I give the man a slanted smirk. "If you're planning on taking them to where I'm thinking you are, we already know."

He seems a bit jilted by the lack of privacy. But he couldn't honesty believe that the government doesn't have an eye on him. After all, Juggernaut is Charles' step-brother. If it weren't for that fact Charles could've slipped under the mutant radar. I don't let my mind linger on such trivial things when I had a mission to perform. I pull out my mobile phone and I punch in the agency's number. On the third ring some low-paid desk worker picks up. I request for three cars and three mutant escorts, and I prattle off my serial number to confirm that I am, in fact, an agent. The mutant part of that order was encoded. The world doesn't need to know that people like us are law enforcement.

When the cars arrive and Alex heads with Sean and Hank towards one, I wrap my hand around his bicep. He looks back at me in confusion. "The fuck do you want?" He growls.

"I am carrying out my orders." I return in an emotionless tone. "You and I will be riding by ourselves."

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the 10 month wait! I lost my First Class DVD and I've only recently retrieved it. I still hope you enjoy the chapter and leave behind a thought or two about it! xoxo, Momma Love**


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